Dead Instinct
by SilverStainsSS
Summary: Abraham thought the Count was going to be difficult, knew he was going to be difficult, when Abraham finally released him from his coffin. But this is an entirely different level of what Abraham had in mind. Takes place in Abraham's time w/ a broken vampire.
1. Prologue

Dead Instinct

Prologue

Abraham frowned at the stack of never ending paperwork on his desk. The tell tale signs of his fourth migraine that day were beginning to become impossible to ignore. In the past two weeks there had been a frightening amount of vampire attacks. He found himself looking at a list of 14 dead, and two missing citizens. if the attacks were not as random as they seemed, he couldn't find a way to connect them at all. One attack was on a family of five. The mother and father were found dead on sight, the obvious bite marks evident on their necks and out of the three children, one was missing. The youngest daughter, a small child with blonde hair and blue eyes, was found dead as well as the older brother, both in their bedrooms. There was nothing she could see that could locate the missing child, female and 12 years old. The family's single dog was also found dead with its neck snapped. Whatever vampire had attacked them, or possibly whatever group of vampires attacked them, had done it in the middle of the night and obviously didn't feel the need to keep it a secret.

Out of the remaining nine bodies that had been reported dead or missing, there were two couples, one couple homosexual, not openly, but Abraham's heart dropped just a bit when he read about their case. He believed whatever made someone happy was what was right. He was in no means homosexual but if someone else was he had no problem with it. Abraham actually encouraged it. The other couple was heterosexual. All the bodies for those four were found drained of blood and bitten on or around the neck area. A father and daughter had gone missing, last being seen happily shopping at a nearby open market. The reason they were identified as being supernatural attacks was because the incident took place at night and the daughter had made a panicked run across the street, where a widow had witnessed her horrified face for the seconds it took for the girl to dash through her point of view. During a later questioning, the widow claimed to not have seen someone chasing the girl. While this case had the possibility of not being supernatural, it was more then likely a vampire that attacked and kidnapped them. A young woman, a nanny going by the report, had been attacked after her latest shift, ending at about 10 at night, and had lived. She reported to Scotland Yard that some madman had come out of nowhere and tried killing her, biting her shoulder and being frighteningly strong. She said she had prayed to god and he answered her prayers when she passed out and woke up by her employer's home a few hours later. The man and woman who hired her were both out on a business trip with their son, and all of the staff had either retired to their homes or were sleeping soundly in the manor. Assuming the woman was telling the truth, then this had to have been a vampire attack. However when Abraham had sent an officer to question her further, they found her dead in her home, drained of blood and gruesomely had her throat ripped out. Another young man, 23, held a job as a painter and was seen at a art gallery, witnesses said he was acting off and left before his piece could be exhibited. His body was later found off a road not too far away from his home and he too was bitten. It was clear he had been killed first by having his neck snapped. The same situation happened with a local waitress. The only thing Abraham couldn't put together was the bodies.

When virgin they should have been turned. When not virgin they turn to a ghoul. In theses cases none of the victims had been ghouled or turned. The children were most certainly virgin and an autopsy showed they died of blood loss and not another form of death. The cases of the waitress and painter, showed that he vampire that attacked them could have been being careful and killed them before they bit them, preventing them from ghouling or turning into a fledgling. The nanny was the most confusing, she was not virgin, yet she had been bit and didn't ghoul. Then when they found her later she still didn't have any signs of being ghouled or turned. If these were the work of a vampire the only thing anyone should have been able to find of the victims, were either a ghoulish rotting body, or a pile of ashes. Not perfectly human corpses.

Abraham pulled his drawer open, pulling out a trusty box of cigars and slipped one between his lips and teeth. He flicked a match across the coarse side of the box and burned the end of the cigar before inhaling and exhaling the smoke. It did little to help his headache but the nicotine eased some of his nerves. Despite him being known to have no emotions, he needed breaks from the stress that came to him while dealing with all the paperwork and physical effort required for his job.

With only Abraham and the occasional help from the hunting party, tracking down and killing the undead was taxing and often left side affects. Sore muscles and tired eyes were becoming a normal part of Abraham's life and that wasn't healthy in the slightest. He needed the crown's support, desperately. Now more then ever. Because he originally came from the Netherlands, he was by no means a noble in Britain. That combined with the fact that his proposal sounded ridiculous to most. Odds were stacked high against him and all he had was a very clever and evil monster in an unknown state and condition to prove for his months long journey to Romania.

The Count came to the front of Abraham's mind. Thinking back to the capture of the monster, Abraham began seeing what he could have done differently. The vampire hadn't been let out of his coffin since they nailed it shut the moment they got him in the damned thing. That was in Romania, about a month ago. No more like three weeks. After the coffin was settled in the sub basements of Abraham's large home the party mourned their dead friends then Jonathan and Mina had returned to their own home, not wanting anything to deal with the evil sealed in the basement. Steward stayed for the initial week but neither him nor Abraham wanted to brave what was in the coffin with just the two of them. Who knew what the Count had planned! The monster had nothing in its coffin that could serve as a weapon but his hands were deadly enough.

Steward left to check on his hospital and sort things out there. He needed to and without anyone to assist in waking the vampire, he had no reason to stay longer than he already had. Abraham didn't even try to stop him, he knew the patients needed Steward and there wouldn't be a point in keeping the doctor there anyways. Abraham's thoughts wandered to the vampire. Certainly the monster was fine. There was nothing to hurt it and starvation would do no more then weaken it. He himself had seen the effects of weapons and starvation on the Count. They seemed to do nothing to affect him expect when he was lacking in everything needed to sustain him. Starvation, combined with being without his coffin, and constantly being on the run from weapons, had made it barely possible to capture and secure the creature in its coffin. Even then, the effort was great and the pay so far had been next to nothing, if not more of just a huge waste of time, lives, and resources.

The reminder of the utter disappointment ate at Abraham. The Count hadn't even been let out of his coffin since he was boxed into it the first time. He could be usable. Sighing, Abraham bit at his thumb nail, a habit he peevishly reminded himself to work on.

"Is there something the matter, Sir?" The young male servant, present by the door leaned forward and addressed Abraham. He could tell he was stressed and in his short time working as a butler and he liked to think he knew how to tell when someone had a headache. Abraham straightened and shook his head, picking up his freshly inked quill once more. He mindlessly glanced at the servant and frowned. Abraham had no need to hide his discomfort around the small staff of his home. He made no effort to hide his emotions when he didn't need to and in this case it benefited his stress. "Could you prepare some watered down beer? I need a break and a drink." Abraham requested after a moment of thought. He couldn't afford to get drunk and he didn't want to in an case. Still he needed something to take the edge off his nerves more then the cigar was doing and the papers on his desk promised a long night. With a small bow, the man nodded. "Yes, of course, I will pour you a glass immediately." He easily replied and exited the room, shutting the door soundlessly behind him. Abraham listened to the heavier footfalls of the man as they retreated from his study. Another sigh and he leaned back in his chair.

No matter how many times he looked over the reports and papers on the attacks he couldn't figure out where the vampire or vampires were, and couldn't predict when or where they were going to attack next. The scenes all took place in different parts of London and around London, they were so random, Abraham couldn't organize them. Without the help of Scotland Yard and the crown, he couldn't really get farther into the investigation either. The frown on Abraham's face got deeper. For all he knew, he could have been looking at multiple vampires not associated with each other at all.

That thought sparked a new pang of ache in his skull and he gently rubbed the bridge of his nose. Snuffing the end of his cigar out in the ashtray placed on his desk, he pursed his lips in thought and frowned at the ceiling. All it seemed like he was doing was paperwork. His move to London complicated his financial situation, paperwork then showed up to get his money to him.

He really had nothing else to do. There wasn't something more pressing then hunting the undead, that Abraham had to worry about. He didn't have a family and though he wanted to have one he wasn't looking for one right now. Hell, he couldn't have one because of how much danger they would be in. Most of his family didn't care for him and the few that did were not really close enough for him to write to. He doubted they even knew he had moved out of the country. Other then that he couldn't come up with something that required his attention more then the undead.

"Damnation." Abraham cursed under his breath as he abruptly stood up, pushing his chair back. He paused a moment, his lip caught between his teeth. "Damnation." He hissed and shook his head before walking across the span of his study. Patting his hand on his pocket, Abraham made sure the set of keys was nestled there. With his mindset and determination in his eyes, the hunter threw the door open and steadily made his way through his home and to the hallway leading to first the kitchen, where the cold medical bottles of blood were stored and then to the basement doors.

The passage into the basements was gloomy. The air was chilled and Abraham could have sworn his breath made a thin fog every time he exhaled. The stone was cold to the touch and created a feeling that was unique to basements alone. The feeling you got as a kid that made you run up the steps instead of calmly walk up them. The stone effectively blocked out any light except the very little that came down from the doorway. Before setting down the stairs, Abraham fetched a lantern, one that burned brightly and had plenty of fuel, as well as had a wooden handle. If he set it down for any period of time the wood would not cool as quickly and would be easier to pick up. He lifted the lantern with one hand and wrapped his hand around the gun in his waist belt, loaded with silver bullets, blessed to be sure, that sat next to the blessed stake, also in his waist belt. He didn't feel the overwhelming need to have any more protection then that but just to make sure he had a rosary dangling from the wrist holding the lantern.

If the count was awake, Abraham wanted to make sure he had the stake ready to penetrate flesh. He guessed he wasn't. It was slightly past sundown and the horizon shined with oranges, quickly fading to blacks and blues. If somehow the vampire had managed to get out of his coffin, Abraham had faith that the room he prepared for the creature, would hold him.

Walking down the hall you would see a heavy silver laced metal door. A weighted padlock and chains secured the handle. Past that was a small open room, one big enough to place one or two large chairs, and if both were occupied and if it were necessary, one or two additional people could stand on the other side of the room. Another metal door enclosed the cell itself. This one had two locks and had more silver in it. Abraham had the door blessed, but not the doorway. That way if he needed to remove the count from the cell he could but the vampire wouldn't be able to touch the door at all. Here Abraham had more doubt. He had seen the creature brush off holy items with little to no effort and he didn't know how well the door would hold the count.

Two barred windows flanked the door. Both the exact same. Only 1 and a half feet tall, and a half a foot wide. There was a silver bar every two inches in the windows and those were heavily blessed. The window frame was blessed as well and a bit of alchemy was engraved into the metal around the frame. He had a priest come and ward them as well. Abraham wouldn't make the windows less protected then the rest of the cell.

As for the rest of the cell, the floor was in guarded for there was no reason to put protection on it but right next the door was a thick line of silver and tar that was mixed with host. The room was little more then ten feet by eleven feet. And farthest from the door, the coffin of the beast laid on a foot high slab of cement.

Raising the lantern higher, Abraham squinted to see the coffin through the windows. The shadows from the flame casted themselves across the stone and against the walls. If the coffin was open the monster would have definitely known he was there if he couldn't hear him opening the doors then shutting them again. If he were to kill Abraham he wouldn't be able to get out of the cell, preventing the most damage in the worst case scenario when the precautions are effective. If they were not effective...well the count would tear into every human in London, maybe farther.

To Abraham's relief, the lid of the coffin sat neatly in place on top of the box. He couldn't see if it had been opened yet but the stillness helped calm him and assure him the nails he and Jonathan had embedded into the wood were still there. Steadying his slightly jumpy pulse he swallowed.

"Slave!" The word came out holding authority and firmness and bounced around in the quiet air. He wanted the former Count to know exactly who was in charge, as quickly as possible. Abraham wouldn't show the slight tinge of fright that the beast might not be in it's coffin. "Show yourself." He ordered coldly, half expecting the pale marble flesh of the beast to come from the shadows. When nothing responded to his order, a slight huff of annoyance came from Abraham. "Monster! You are my slave now. Nothing but what I want you to be and do as I say." A bit of anger filled his words. Already, his slave was being stubborn and difficult. When again, silence followed the echo of his order, Abraham say the lantern into one of the window frames and dug into his pocket to find the keys to the second door. His coat, bright red and very comfortable, also had deep pockets.

With his palm closed around the small metal piece, he unlocked the first then second lock. Hand firmly around the stake, the small room called for close combat weapon, he pushed the door open and watched it swing to the side. Without hesitation, his stake was in a defensive position and ready to strike.

It turned out there was no need to have it poised for attack. The room was empty of the vampire. He wasn't in the corners or behind the door with a check and wasn't anywhere in the shadows. The thin layer of sweat that gathered on his forehead, was wiped away with a handkerchief, and Abraham narrowed his eyes at the coffin in front of him. The dim light danced across the black wood and gleamed where small nail heads stood out from the black. It highlighted the silver lettering on the lid and dipped into endless shadows in the crevasses along the sides. The light made the coffin seem more imposing then it was and it brushed against Abraham's nerves, steel as they were.

Everyone be damned if Abraham was going back down from what he had decided to do! Huffing, Hellsing ran fingertips over the nail heads and smirked with the knowledge that the monster was very much still in the box. _Good._ He thought to himself. _This monster deserves what's coming to it._ His teeth found his way into his lips and worried them for a bit. Prying off the lid could damage it and he wasn't about to risk that. If his vampire was usable, which it had to be, then he needed everything that could help with it's healing and recovery from what Abraham had in store for the beast. That and Abraham hadn't had the chance to study a vampire's behavior and needs up close. Blood, he knew they needed and they cherished their coffins. but he wasn't sure how far their need for the box was or even if they needed it at all. All of the vampires he had hunted in the past and even Dracula himself took very good care of the coffins. It usually gave away where the vampires were hiding. Among the dusty coffins of others in graveyards, the well attended to wood was easy to spot and not at all hard to target during the day. Abraham made a mental note to ask about that later, when his slave was awake and able to answer him.

Again inspecting the wood and nails, Hellsing pulled his knife from his boot, something that came in handy more often then not, and wedged it between the lid and edge of the coffin. The wood gave a loud groan of protest when he began loosening the nails and pulling them out. Careful not to damage the wood more then necessary, Abraham wiggled the lid a tad loose, followed by a pop and scraping as the lid gave away to his constant strain against it. The wood slab slid off the coffin and thudded weightily against the stone floor on the opposite side of the coffin.

Peering inside, Abraham frowned and brought a hand to his nose, blocking out the horrendous smell coming from the beasts resting place filling the air around the coffin. Whatever had caused the overwhelming stench, wasn't visible to Abraham and he gagged once before holding down his stomach contents and removing the hand over his nose.

Instantly the smell invaded his nostrils and caused them to flare, stinging his eyes and encouraging small tears to form. He had smelled a great deal of things in his life time but this...this was worse then the smell of the dead and Abraham couldn't find out what the source was for his life. The vampire itself was prone in its coffin, fully stretched out. Something it was forced to be in the close quarters of the box. It's clothing was far from intact. Tatters and tears showed how worn out the monster had been before it was sealed into the coffin and dips fell in places between ribs, outlining the rib cage. The vampire must have been hungry. Starvation was evident in the face and body. Cheekbones showed under paper thin skin. Cracked and dry lips rimmed a gaping mouth, were inside were gums pulled back and a dry tongue, limp in the throat. Were there should have been glistening white, the teeth were a dull yellowish brown. Abraham farther inspected the body. Previously black hair was grey against the black insides of the coffin and several pieces were falling out. The arms were thin and resembled something close to an anorexic victim. Nail beds were pulled back like the gums in the mouth and while the nails were intact for human nails. They didn't look anything like the deadly talons, Abraham remembered. They were not sharp and glossy, no they were dull, like someone took a file to them and a muted grayish. The skin itself was stiff and stretched. It showed tenseness and had faded from a silken white to grey. This beast was not healthy by the looks of it and Abraham had a few guesses why. The major one being that the damned thing hadn't been fed since who knows how long before the party captured it and then for an additional three weeks, nearing four. Accompanied with it's injuries, Abraham guessed the vampire had used the last of it's energy to heal the worst of them. Lifting the shirt further proved his point. There was the stake's wound on the monster's heart. The flesh was black and rotted around the hole and prodding into the wound with a hesitant finger, Abraham concluded that the wound wasn't deep enough to penetrate the vampire's heart anymore. So yes that had been healed to a degree.

Long jagged black lines crisscrossed the chest of the demon. The flesh was black and rotted in those as well. Abraham hadn't seen the beast receive those wounds but had heard Jonathan speak about striking at the Count several times with his blessed dagger. That was the only thing Abraham could chalk up to have caused these. Pulling a leg out of the coffin and ungracefully draping it over the edge, Abraham took his knife and began at the ankle, cutting the fabric of the vampire's pants up to its hip. It tore easily and was parted to show more grayed skin. Grimly, Abraham noticed the lack of weight in the appendage. The muscles were tight and the condition of the thigh and calf brought raisins to mind. Making a mental note that lack of blood caused severe dehydration over an extended period of time, Abraham moved on to the feet. Scraps were the only thing left on the beast's feet. They were in worse condition than the clothes were and Abraham didn't have a clue why. They had holes everywhere and the soles of the boots were peeling away from the rest of the shoe. The left one was torn at the toes and showed more pulled back nail beds over grayed nails. Small scratches covered the big toe and the nail there was entirely gone.

Leaning back, Hellsing forced remorse from bleeding into his thoughts. God damn it, that creature deserved everything it got! Angrily, Abraham bit into his cheek and glared at the unmoving body of his former enemy. How much blood did he need to fix his slave? Would he even be able to fix him? Question after question flitted through Abraham's mind and all they did was cause his irritation and anger to grow by the second. After a couple minutes, he was pacing the cell and yelling at Dracula's unresponsive body. Most of the yelling came out in Dutch and German, Abraham having lost his grip on English. Several notable curses were flung at the coffin and beast inside it.

Exhausted and mad at himself, Abraham slammed the lid over the coffin once more and left the basements, slamming the doors behind him. Staff, confused over the ruckus, peeked around corners and hurriedly rushed away, not wanting to anger the master of the house farther. It was rare when Abraham lost his cool and when he did, many knew not to bother him. Hellsing more or less ripped his clothes off and changed into a pair of pajamas.

It was several minutes before Abraham felt he could lay down and sleep. "Damnation." He grumbled before shutting his eyes and falling into a listless sleep, plagued by the grayed skin of the beast in his basement.


	2. 01: Rules

Dead Instinct

Chapter 01: Rules

It hurt...everywhere. Beneath the Hellsing home, Dracula winced. His whole body ached and protested with a passion against any movement. He had been this way for far too long and he could tell he was in need of the only thing that gave him nutrition, blood. Cramps filled his muscles. A lot of it. He would need a lot of blood. Aches and pains estimated about a couple gallons, possibly just a bit more. He was starving but his stomach wouldn't be able to handle too much blood in one setting. Not after being empty for so would help but ti would be regurgitated if he rushed feeding. It had been decades since he last felt the dull aches in his stomach but they were there and something told him he no longer had the option to take his fill of blood as he wished.

A sniff and the scent of his coffin flooded through his senses. Dirt, a mixture of the dirt he had before and new dirt. He could tell because of the faint scent of his castle coming from behind the cloth lining the box around him. The higher tones of fresh Romanian air clung to the lining but it was stale. Noticeably old and no where near as intoxicating as it had been. The smell of his home was fading and he longed to chase the smell. His body simply wouldn't allow him to turn his head enough to press his nose against the fabric, so he took in what little he could smell in the position he was in. There was also the smell of fresh new dirt. From his birthplace and his place of death. It was unwelcome to the vampire. It was foreign and he wasn't the one to put it there. The keen sense of smell the vampire had easily divided the contrast between the two earthy scents. It made his coffin feel like someone else had claimed it. Had claimed it but didn't get rid of his smell first. Like they tried to cover his scent, similar to when a woman sprayed perfume on herself to cover the smell of sweat. To a vampire, human sweat was always easy to pick out of the perfumes and most vampires preferred women not were the liquid. It was strong and usually unpleasant for someone who preferred the natural human smell. The natural female scent was sought after by most male vampires and for female vampires the natural male scent was more pleasing, arousing even to many. This dirt was nothing close to pleasing for the beast. Cold fire burned underneath his unpleasantness quickly doused by the distraction of other scents. Moist earth was most potent. It smothered him and he found it more comforting then his should have. He was underground. Under a lot of ground by the smell. It was humid but stale air and it brought him the similarity of tombs, and the sub basements in his own castle.

Then there was a human, Abraham. A mixture of feelings he hadn't experienced in a long time, anger, sadness, fright, uncertainty, a heavy sense of loss and curiosity bit at him. He was angry, he didn't know why but he was angry, more at himself than anyone else. And it came with confusion. No he didn't know why he was angry at himself. The feeling was odd. It didn't have a cause that he could think of but it was there. Not a lot of it though. No, not a lot of it. He couldn't carry a lot he decided because he couldn't think of a reason to. The sadness stemmed from the sense of loss. He could remember what he lost. His brides, as irritating and pushy as they had been, they were loyal and good company when they were happy. In the mountains and shut away from others, the Count had few to interact with that he enjoyed the company of. The Romani were there and he liked to carry a conversation or two with a few of them but they were just human and trying to explain his nature to them proved to be more difficult then most would think. He couldn't remember exactly how he had lost his family and home. The only thing he could pull out of his muddled memory was Abraham Van Hellsing. A large human. Built to hunt his kind and defend himself from vampires. His ability to create strategy and execute plans stuck out to the vampire. Had he been responsible for this feeling of loss? It would explain the pang of stung pride the vampire had every time a waft of Abraham's smell came to him. This human was special and the vampire didn't know how. Nothing other then the bright red duster particularly caught the vampires interest and he couldn't remember anything involving the hunter other then his over all person. Smart, skilled, efficient, strong...these things the vampire knew about the man but he couldn't figure out how he knew. He just did. He also knew the human's scent somehow. He could pick it out of the jumble of smells he was currently surrounded by. The dirt, the humidity, everything was less...heady...then the smell of this human.

The vampire could tell he was broken somehow. Thoughts were fuzzy and clipped. His memory didn't feel right. He could do little more then simply know things. He knew Abraham Van Hellsing was a human but not how he knew that. Had he met him? He didn't know. He knew he lost a home, family, brides, things like that but not how exactly, just that Abraham was his top concern right now. Where was this human? It felt to the vampire that he should know that but didn't. It made sense to him. He had been in his coffin for a while. Weeks maybe, a month at most, therefore he shouldn't be able to tell where the human was. Still, he felt entitled to know. He wasn't exactly worried but he still wanted to know, needed to know. It confused him farther.

And he was curious. Where was he? What time was it? Simple questions led his train of thoughts. Instinctively he guessed the time to be around 7...maybe a little later then that. He couldn't feel the pull of the sun, so he nodded to himself. Over a few centuries, he developed a frighteningly accurate sense of passing time. Seconds were easy, so were minutes and hours. Days and weeks were a bit harder. Months were not a challenge but took a little more guess work. Years felt very distinct. He would always be able to tell years. They marked the soul. If you were imprisoned for a second. You knew. If you were imprisoned for a minute you would know. A day you would know even if your exact time was off by a little bit. A week and you still could tell a week but the distance of the guess from the actual time would be farther then if you were imprisoned for a day. A month would be hard to keep track of and usually you would be off by a few days, maybe a week. Years on the other hand, you knew exactly when you hit the year mark. It was something you felt. He had been in this box for about four weeks. That was his guess.

He was in his coffin, no doubt about that. It felt like home and gave him a calm feeling. But it was tampered with. New soil, new scents...Abraham's scent. The man's scent once again flustered up a mix of confusion and curiosity. And it was everywhere on him and the coffin. On the edge of the coffin, on his body, his clothes. It was strong but not exactly fresh, so at least a few hours old. This helped the buzzing in his nerves. He had been left alone for a human's view of a long while.

A raw wave of curiosity came to the vampire. He wanted out. He wanted out of the coffin and to explore the place he was in. He was far too familiar to the insides of his coffin. The fabrics, wood, soil, everything was old and he wanted out. He didn't know why the urge was so strong, the coffin gave him relaxation and healing, it wasn't hurting him, and it was rather comfortable but he wanted out of it. Why? he didn't know why. He just did.

With a few winces he pushed against the lid of the coffin. The bones in his wrist cracked and popped as he applied pressure. The sound drew more winces from the creature and he lifted the lid just enough to allow a new batch of smells to assault him. Burning oil...a lantern probably. The dark shadows and highlights of fire casted themselves into his box and it brought a small smile to the vampire's face. It was a lantern, he was right. The modest flare of pride lightened the demon's face. He was proud he was right. Such a small thing to be proud of but proud he was. Abraham's smell was stronger out of the coffin but still old so it didn't bother the vampire in the slightest.

Barely noticeable pants, erupted from the vampire. Energy he didn't have was being spent and it was exhausting him to hold the heavy slab of wood off the coffin. Scared of damaging the lid, the vampire gently settled it back in place. As soon as the light thud hit his ears, the vampire dropped his arms back to his sides and exhaled. He needed blood...and a bath. A very long, through one.

XxxXxxXxxXxxX

In his study, Abraham growled at the paperwork once again. He had reread the files of the vampire victims and still nothing added up. Sleep did little to clear his mind, if anything it slowed it down! He could be dealing with any number of vampires. Or on the very slight chance, his luck still wanted to help him, he was dealing with only one either mentally insane vampire or really smart vampire. Scratch just one vampire. Even if he was dealing with one vampire that was attacking, he still had to deal with the failure in his basement. No not failure. He didn't know if the Count was a failure yet. All he knew was he had to feed the monster. Would it take animal blood? Did it need warm and fresh, or could it deal with cold and coagulated? The bottles he had currently came from donors. Not much blood was collected, a small bottle and a normal sized bag. He needed to come up with a more effective way to feed the beast. Hospitals maybe. Once he had the Crown's funding he didn't have a doubt that blood would be much easier to obtain. For right now though, he had to make do with what was available.

Frustrating. This whole situation was frustrating. It grated against Abraham's tolerance. He didn't know what to do with the Count and everything else. It was simply overwhelming. Maybe he needed Steward to take a look at him. Finally after a few years, his pursue of the undead just might have pushed him over the edge.

The thought ripped a rough chuckle from Hellsing. No he wasn't insane, just overwhelmed. Taking a deep gulp of watered down beer, Abraham drew random scribbles on the paper, the ink on the feathered quill long since ran out. He needed to get out of his study. The bookshelves and desk he was sure were engraved into his memory. The files and paperwork were the last thing he wanted to do and the idea of sitting and doing any of it threatened Abraham's sanity. Groaning, Hellsing rubbed his palm over his face, slight stubble catching on his calloused hands. All the hours he spent practicing staking and handling crossbows, left the skin on his palms very rough and tough. It didn't bother him in the slightest but he was sure before he even thought about courting someone, he would have to smooth them somehow. Blue eyes stared at the ceiling and an occasional sigh was breathed out.

This was very unproductive, he decided. He needed to get things done. Something, anything.

The Count was still in the basement, needed blood and if he was wakened Hellsing could use the beast to further research and as his slave he could have him do anything he needed done. The domestic idea of having the former lord doing household paperwork amused Abraham. God was it a strange idea. He wouldn't have the vampire do something like that. He could hire an assistant if he really needed to. The vampire was far too valuable to use for something so mundane.

Remnants of the Count doing paperwork, leaned over a stack of files and spending a night writing everything needed to meet the paper's standards, left Abraham in a lighter mood then usual. He stood and once again made the trip from his study to the kitchen, then to the basement. The air felt the same as before, gloomy, cold, endless. It didn't cause Abraham to waver in his actions as he took one step then the other down the staircase. His boots thudded against the stone and echoed into the darkness beyond the light the lantern in Abraham's hand could produce. In the complete darkness, is formed a five foot bubble around the hunter and illuminated the puff of white that came from every breath Abraham took.

As he grew closer to his slave's cell, Abraham's steps took on a much more cautious pace. Slow, steady, balanced. He took caution with every step and felt the blood pumping under his skin. This did nothing to reassure himself he was hidden from the monster's senses. If he himself could hear the beat of his own heart in his ear and if he could feel the blood under his skin, the vampire most certainly could. Even behind the metal doors and wards, Abraham couldn't underestimate the creature. He knew how acute the beast's hearing and smell could be. He had seen and witnessed it a thousand times. With both the Count and other vampires. The Count was hearing his every breath and heart beat. The amount of sweat that had accumulated on his skin was being breathed in by the monster and Abraham knew it. No point in hiding then.

With loud footfalls and crass rattles of the padlocks, the first door was opened and shut ungracefully. Abraham wanted his slave to know it's place. He didn't care if the banging was loud to the vampire. He didn't care what the vampire liked at all. He had came down to the basements to check on his charge's condition and possibly feed the thing. If he was in the mood, Abraham had also brought a journal to record the beast's behavior. And with sheer luck, the Count was going to be in a cooperative mood. If not, Abraham didn't have any qualms about shooting the beast and letting it sit in it's coffin a bit longer. Still, an obedient, submissive vampire was better then a stubborn, ornery vampire.

With the last of the sun gone, Abraham was positive the daylight wouldn't effect the beast, mentally or physically. He had the bag of blood, a handful of days old and chilled. The liquid sloshing around in the plastic bag brought a small set of questions to mind. Did the vampire prefer blood a certain way? Would the different types of blood effect the vampire differently? Would the temperature of the blood do anything? Lost in thought, Hellsing undid both the locks for the inner door and opened it without processing much of what was going on.

That was how he ended up staring at dull red eyes. The brownish red struck out at Abraham and he took a shocked step back in taking a sharp breath and throwing his hand over the stake strapped o his hip , taking a spare second to register the color and owner of those eyes. A startled gasp followed a suck in of chilled air. Involuntarily, Abraham's lungs tensed and shuddered, forcing a hiccup from Hellsing. He let out a shout and pushed backwards, expecting fangs to be at his throat and pain to seize his mind frame. Dracula was awake and was going to kill him. At least he had thought to shut the first door, hopefully the vampire would not be able to get farther then the connected room.

Watchful orbs observed the step back and the surprised face of Abraham. Hellsing's eyes were not filled with fright, only surprise and it brought a smirk to the corner of the vampires lips, pulling the flesh up just enough to show the tip of his fangs.

Abraham, was human. A larger human, as tall as the vampire, but undoubtedly tougher by the looks. The vampire was by no means weak looking, well starved and in the condition he was in of course he looked like a malnourished child, but at full strength, he had a lot to say for himself when it came to looking fit and built. But a human's muscles did not flow like a vampire's and it caused the flesh to look a bit skinnier on the creature. And heavier. Not fat no, but pure muscle weight was a huge difference between the two. A vampire was always lighter then a human of the same size. It allowed them to walk on snow and move silently through halls. In person, Abraham surpassed mental Abraham. He was a human, Dracula could see the potential in. Now everything, the strength, the wisdom, everything Dracula knew about the hunter, was understandable. The very air around Abraham attracted the vampire.

With a tilt of his head, the vampire bounced on the balls of his feet and fidgeted with his fingers behind his back. He wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to upset Abraham, so he stayed where he was after he took a small step back to give the human some sort of room to move as he wished.

In the room connecting the cell to the hall, Hellsing shook in mild terror and extreme startle. The quick stab of realization he was going to die started to fade as he didn't experience the expected pain. He held the stake in front of him and it took him a minute to take in the situation. Abraham took a steadying breath and cleared his throat, noticing the almost timid looking vampire, and it's non threatening behavior. His hand initially went for the stake out of instinct but once again it wasn't a necessary move and he now used that hand to brace himself on the door frame. He narrowed his eyes at the creature. It hadn't said a word. Hadn't made a sound actually and was acting more like a nervous child then a blood sucking demon. The demeanor the vampire was demonstrating paused Abraham and encouraged him to take a look over the beast.

Sad. This powerful thing was in a very sad state. It was skinny, unhealthy so and where muscle was supposed to be, the skin covered mere bones in places. It was still that haunting grey, and wrinkled in odd proportions compared to the amount of skin that was tight over the bone. Now that the beast wasn't lying prone in it's resting place, the cheekbones stood out more and gave the hollow of the eye socket deepened. It gave the illusion that the vampire was a walking mummy and in some sense he was. The hair fell in thin, grey strands. A few fell over his shoulder and came down to his middle torso. Chunks of matted hair clashed with the unkempt strands framing the face. The bright red Abraham had branded into his soul showed more brown than anything and looked to Abraham like dried blood. They showed a basic thought process but nothing more. No plotting or suspicious look. No sharp observation. The quick thinking the beast had showed during his hunt was still there but merely to assess the situation, not the burning blood lust. This was not the Count. Not the monster that hunted Abraham's friends. Not the evil that had tormented thousands of people for fun. This was a shell of that demon. It had the basic mind, the body, even though it was swiped clean, and the ability to observe, but how far did this go? Did the vampire even know who he was?

"Do you know who I am, monster?" He was met with a flare of recognition and a quick response. "Yes, you are the human, Abraham Van Hellsing." Something wasn't right. There was not the memory there. This vampire knew who he was but did not know him at the same time. How about a different approach. "Do you know who you are?" The response was slower. The beast had to tilt it's head in thought and glance off into nothingness for a moment before it could put an answer together. "I am a vampire, Vlad Dracul. But I go by Count by what I remember. However I have a feeling I am not him anymore either. " Abraham didn't know what to do.

The... _that_ was not the response he expected. Neither was the way the vampire was acting and even the fact that the vampire was out of it's coffin wasn't expected. The damned thing knew who he was. It knew his name. Knew he was human. It knew its own name, that it was a vampire and it recognized that based on whatever, it was not in power anymore. That at least was something Abraham counted as a benefit of the predicament. Instead of the two different scenarios Abraham had thought of originally, he had a vampire that didn't exactly have fire. Or at least not the personality it had before. Best of all, it knew it was not in power. He didn't know if the creature thought of him as he person in charge but it was a huge step to even getting it to think it was not in charge.

A few seconds passed and the dirty beast just stood on the balls of it's feet, silently bouncing on them and waiting patiently for the next question it seemed.

"You are not the Count anymore, slave. You have fallen from your power and now are at the mercy of me. You know who I am. I expect nothing but obedience. You are nothing but what I wish you to be." The brief explanation began the cogs in the monster's mind. Clearly it was processing the information and it appeared to be taking the statement in stride. There wasn't anger or sadness. A flicker of confusion and then it vanished. It nodded it's head, showing it understood. "Good. I don't know how much this has affected you. This cell is yours to move about in. The walls you can not touch, the windows and doors you may not touch, the floor is free to move about on, so is your coffin. Do not think about escaping, and do not attempt it. I will find and kill you if this occurs." Another pause and the vampire nodded again. Here Abraham just felt like no matter what he said, the beast would agree to it. Obviously it was interested in learning it's position and Abraham, while eager to get it into his head, he didn't know if this was permanent or not, he couldn't think of anything else pressing to say to the monster. "You will address me as master, slave. Is that understood?" The vampire gave yet another nod. "Speak."

"Yes, Master." That was easier then Abraham ever thought that would have been. There wasn't any hesitation and it was done instantly. Abraham sure as hell hoped whatever damaged the vampires brain would last permanently, well for what he had seen so far. He didn't know if it affected it's abilities or anything but so far this was perfect.


	3. 02: Strange Beginnings

Dead Instinct

Chapter 02: Strange Beginnings

Abraham found himself back in his office. After talking with the count, informing him more like it, he decided to let the beast settle into the cell. After all, he had no idea how long the vampire had been up and made the trip back to his office after taking the time to lock the demon into the room, checking the locks, and climbing the stairs.

He leaned back and let out a soft breath. He had only been in the basements for a few minutes but had managed to get all he needed to get done, done. A smirk touched his lips. Abraham was a tad relieved to be back in warmer air once he had reached the top of the stairs but other than that, he was back to not knowing what exactly to do. Writing a paper to Steward and requesting his company seemed like the best decision. The doctor ran an asylum after all. However, when Hellsing's hand picked up the quill and paper he really had no idea what to say. Steward certainly wouldn't believe him and come to the manor to see for himself but then that was assuming the count would behave the same for the Doctor.

Placing a thumb to his temple and sighing, Abraham thought. Thought about what to do, what needed to be done, questions to ask Dracula, and if sleep would be the better decision. Being on a nocturnal schedule would be best if he planned to work with the vampire closely, but he was exhausted and could barely think straight with him being in his office all day and night. _Especially_ , with those damned papers. Abraham let out a soft growl and stood abruptly. The sound of wood scraping against wood was heard as his chair was pushed back, and Hellsing left his office once more. This time intending to walk down the hall and up the stairs to his room. Sleep was needed.

Rustling his door open, Abraham shuffled in and shut the door quietly. At this hour the manor was quiet and even the small thud of the door settling into the doorframe made Abraham cringe. It made him wonder if that was how all things sounded to vampires, loud and obtrusive.

Today had felt long. Too long. Paperwork seemed to slow time down to four days per second. To hell with even touching his office tomorrow. At the pace he was piecing together the reported vampire attacks, he wasn't even going to be able to figure out which part of the country they were in. Locating them and hunting them much less. It was frustrating but despite Abraham's irritation towards taking a break with something so important, he knew when resting was more beneficial then pushing his limits.

Pulling off his coat, it found its way onto his bed covers and he didn't bother to hang it up as he farther began undressing. As he did so, more questions haunted his thoughts. Questions regarding the beast in his basement. He didn't know how to keep track of them and gave up. Simply letting the thoughts move as they wished through his mind. Pajamas became more of a chore than anything, without much thought he didn't put any on.

By the time he pulled back the sheets on his bed and actually laid down, he had thought of questions ranging from simple behaviors of the vampire to personal preferences the beast had.

If everything went as planned, Hellsing would know the answers to some of his questions and he would feed the vampire tomorrow evening. Then he would write to Steward.

Plan in mind, Abraham fell to sleep.

XxxXxxXxxXxxX

Dracula sat. Master was strange. Tilting its head, the vampire blinked at the wards along the doorframe and pursed his lips. He didn't know what he had expected, if he expected anything at all, from Abraham but he felt that he missed something. Probably due to his lack of memory, but vexing nonetheless. He listened to the chains and locks rattle as the human secured his cell behind him and then picked up the steady pace of Abraham walking up the stairs and closing the basement doors with a thud. He was alone again.

The vampire shifted and stood up to stretch out his muscles. They ached more then when he had woke up. The blood master had with him was never given to the vampire. Whether or not it was meant for him was thrown into his thoughts but it didn't really matter. Abraham had blood on him, as cold and coagulated as it was, it was still blood and in the state the vampire was in, he needed it.

Running a dry tongue over chapped lips didn't help him feel any better either. His nostrils burned and he let out a small whine. Panic formed the more he thought of what had happened. Did he do something wrong? He couldn't think of anything he did wrong but he wouldn't assume that Abraham wanted him healthy.

In his past he had owned slaves and prisoners. He hadn't treated them badly exactly but in the prisoner's case, their health wasn't at the top of his priorities list. Abraham had called him his slave. Hopefully, that implied better health but Dracula wouldn't set his hopes up. Abraham was strange after all. Maybe the blood had been a tease or a promise in a way. If the vampire behaved, he would get the blood.

A twist in his stomach reminded him of just how desperately he needed the red substance. Another whine found its way out of his lips and he flexed his fists. The action caused him to pause and feel exactly how starvation affected him. He had forgotten and now he wondered how. It was terrible and pulled his face into a frown. The mere fact he was able to get up and out of the coffin at all, was surprising. The little energy the vampire had, came from his rest in his coffin. He sure as hell wasn't getting it from blood.

Finding a spot on the stone floor, Dracula settled with curling into a fetal position and sleeping again. True he was nocturnal and it was far from sunrise, but he barely had the energy to stand. He needed to conserve the little left.

The last of his thoughts skimmed over how tomorrow was going to be and within minutes the silence of a sleeping vampire filled the basement air.

XxxXxxXxxXxxX

 _ **Knock, knock, knock…...knock, knock, knock**_

Abraham stirred and frowned, settling again.

 _ **Sir...knock, knock, knock…**_

Another frown and Abraham blinked his eyelids open, scowling at the streams of light breaking through his curtains and staining the carpet with spots of yellow. He turned over onto his back and stared at the ceiling before a sharp set of knocks sounded from his door again.

"Sir, are you awake?" The inquiry was short and Abraham sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Waving towards the door he nodded, even knowing the servant wouldn't be able to see him do so. "Yes, yes. I am up." He shouted to the male in the hall and stood up, rolling his shoulders and neck back. A satisfying pop came from his neck and he reached for the bathrobe tossed over the back of a chair near by. He never used the chair for anything else even though it was paired with a writing desk as well. Pulling it on, he fumbled with the sash, slipped on slippers, and left his room.

The servant was nowhere in the hall but it wasn't expected of him. He had other duties and Abraham didn't see the point in making him wait for Abraham to leave his room, when Hellsing could find his way around his own home himself.

Making his way down the main staircase, Abraham made a face at the bright morning light and located the dining room before sitting down. Never in his life was Abraham a morning person. He prefered waking up mid afternoon and going to bed in the very early morning. The rest of the world unfortunately didn't have the same preferences and most of the time he slept very little.

The table was set and under a silver covering was a traditional english breakfast, oatmeal in a small bowl for a side, and orange juice to drink. He couldn't stand tea. It made him want to gag, so instead he had ordered the cook, a middle aged man with a bright personality, to serve orange juice instead. He wasn't impressed with the food, but the juice was good enough to allow Abraham to stomach the contents of his plate. If he found someone who could cook better and take his hunting habits seriously, he would have hired them long ago.

"Sir…" Abraham looked up from the morning paper and nodded to the man at the doorway, signaling him, he was listening. "I have a letter from a Doctor John Steward. It was delivered early this morning, after the paper." Abraham tilted his head and thought a moment. The servant brought the envelope to Abraham and grabbing it out of his hand, Hellsing tucked it into his robe. "Thank you." The servant nodded and left, leaving the head of the house to the rest of his meal.

XxxXxxXxxXxxX

It was simply…..

 _ **Irritating.**_

Dull brown orbs stared at the stone of his cell floor.

He had decided over the past five hours or so of restless dozing and twists and turns, that he wouldn't get any proper rest until he was fed. And that in itself was irritating. On top of the itch of daytime, the vampire had the pains from starvation….

And he could still smell the human who had captured him. Paper thin eyelids narrowed over brown irises and Dracula began thinking about the dents in the stone. A sign of fatigue. He wished his master would come down and feed him so he could rest. A whine and then yet another shuffle.

Sitting up straight, the vampire focused his attention on the door. His ears picked up the faintest footfalls and then the hinges of a rusty door. Eager sparks flashed through his eyes and he held an unnecessary breath. Master was back.

XxxXxxXxxXxxX

Abraham opened the cell, sure the vampire was sleeping in its wooden death place, as it was day time. The sun had risen hours before and his vampire was very weak. It shouldn't have been out of its coffin, sitting on the floor.

He blinked. It blinked. There was silence and then Abraham caught a small breath leaving the beasts lips. He was stunned. Utterly stopped in his tracks for a second time by the monster. And it hadn't even moved. Abraham deadpanned. It was baffling and odd and everything else on the stranger side of things.

Dracula was strange. Whether or not he was aware of that was stored into the file of questions to ask later. The file that seemed to grow exponentially.

Hellsing took the few steps into the small space and shut the door, locking it while keeping his eye on the vampire behind him. If he didn't know better, he would have guessed the beast to be some odd sculpture. Its pale, almost see through skin added to the effect and the dim lighting of the lantern he had placed in the window gave the creature a sort of glow. A very detailed piece of art.

Starving too. Tensely, Hellsing reached into his coat and revealed the bag of blood stored there. It wasn't cold exactly, as it had been earlier that morning but it still had a slight chill to it. He wondered if that would affect its ability to heal the beast. "Slave." A single, simple word, but a powerful one all the same.

Rusty brown widened and an audible swallow followed. "Yes Master?" Abraham tried to pry a feeling away from the response but couldn't find anything but cautiousness. His slave was not frightened but hunger sparked in the eyes that stared at him. That worried Abraham. He didn't want his vampire to attack him simply because he didn't give the vampire any blood before it drove the thing mad.

Sighing, Hellsing offered the blood to the demon and studied it.

A pale hand reached up as the eyes stayed trained to Abraham. It was cautious but Abraham guessed that the hunger the beast was experiencing wouldn't refuse blood. The vampire was careful too. It made sure to gently slip the bag from its master's hand and not make any skin to skin contact. Abraham noted this and stepped back. He had never seen Dracula eat.

Other vampires, yes. He had watched quite a few meals, but not this specific vampire. Secretly, Abraham enjoyed watching the demons feed. Not because he enjoyed watching the very thing in his veins being sucked out of other people but each monster had their own ways of eating. He was willing to bet a lot of the habits they had while eating came from their human lifestyle. How exactly, he had no clue, but a king as a human would not change his elegance in death, just as a beggar would not hesitate to eat in both life and death.

How would Abraham eat as a vampire? The question played a bit of thought into Hellsings eyes and the vampire watched it come and go. Dracula crouched and rocked his weight back onto its heels. With the bag in his hands, the vampire gulped and slipped the tube into its mouth...and then the blood was gone. Abraham felt his eyes widen. His vampire really must have been starving. A whole bag of blood gone in the span of a blink. It obviously did wonders for the beast, but the sheer speed of the consumption awed Hellsing.

XxxXxxXxxXxxX

There was blood. A loud deep purr sounded and Dracula felt the plasma do its job in his body. Far from enough, but oh so good. He let his eyelids flutter shut and slumped against the floor. His master was still in the room, that he was very much aware of, but he couldn't care unless his master did something.

The red liquid did its job in a matter of a couple minutes. Bright awareness seeped into the monster's eyes and paper thin skin became more solid and firm. Hollow areas in between ribs disappeared and the hair was restored to its ebony color. A process, Abraham would make sure to watch in closer detail.

"Vampire?" The call slipped from Hellsing's mouth as more of a question than anything. In a way he supposed it was. The damned thing looked like a cat who just got into catnip. Drugged and boneless. The vampire instantly sat up and blinked at him through thick lashes. At least it was aware.

"Yes, master?" A smooth tone sounded in the beast's words and showed Van hellsing just how much a bag of blood could go in its healing. The vampire looked far from its previous wonder but it was far closer then it had been. "How much more do you need?" He knew the vampire needed more. It wasn't in the best shape yet and again he wondered if the condition of the blood had any effect on how the blood healed. The beast took a moment to rub his thumb over his lips and think. The cogs in its brain were definitely slower and in no way as fast as they had been before the capture. "Hm...four...four more bags." The answer somehow shocked Abraham. He expected maybe one or two bags. This single bag had healed the beasts outer appearance very quickly but he did suppose that wasn't nearly enough. Almost five weeks in the coffin without blood, and the monster still somehow had managed to get out of it, but Abraham couldn't doubt that it took a very large amount of energy and the beast would not have gotten out unless it was dire. It was starving, so of course it would get out of the coffin, it needed to stay awake for any possible chance of blood. However, the monster hadn't even moved when he entered. Why? Nothing was physically stopping it. Though it would hurt, the chances of Abraham staking it again before it sank its teeth into his neck were very slim, even if Abraham didn't want to admit it. This puzzled him and yet again he forced himself to add the question to that ever growing mental file of 'To ask Dracula Later' questions.

Hellsing thought about how he would make that work. It was a lot of blood to be collected. He would think it over later. The vampire wasn't dying and was coherent, so Hellsing decided that was good enough. He narrowed his eyes and motioned for the monster to stand. It did so. It's long legs raised the beast to its full height at six feet three inches. To Hellsing, this wasn't intimidating as he was the same height, but for anyone shorter than the vampire, it's height helped establish dominance. It was a natural human instinct to be wary of things bigger than you after all.

A few strands of ratted hair fell over the vampire's face and strong hands gracefully but firmly brushed them behind slightly pointed ears. "You need a wash. You smell horrid." Abraham curtly stated. A small smirk flashed the vampires teeth. Abraham shook his head at the beasts behavior and turned to exit the cell. He took a step out of the cell and took a peek over his shoulder to reveal an oddly peppy vampire a handful of feet behind him obediently following.

With a small smile on his own lips, Hellsing resumed his walk back to the upper floors, sure the vampire would follow. The vampire would be restrained in his home when Abraham or another hunter was not present, but with how it was behaving now, Abraham felt no need to restrain it. If it wanted to attack him, it would have. Besides, if it tried to run, Abraham still had its coffin. The creature wouldn't abandon its only true resting place. Abraham was sure of it. But the ease he felt around the creature was a bad feeling to the hunter. He didn't like that he trusted the vampire to not do anything. Something...hm...was wrong with it. That was the best way to put it. What was following him, wasn't the Count to Abraham. It was something else. Something Abraham could _feel_ was not a threat.

Reaching the top of the stairs proved to be healthy for the both of them. The vampire lit up at the chance to smell and see new surroundings. Abraham was glad to be warm again and in less cramped of an area. He cracked his neck and moved his gaze to watch what the vampire did. It was strange. Like a dog almost, nostrils flaring and wide eyes taking in everything. Once it located the window at the end of the hall, it's focus only stayed for a fleeting moment and it moved on. This reassured Hellsing. No, his vampire wasn't going to try and escape.

He planned to have the vampire washed in a guest bathroom, as the idea of the beast in his bedroom, seemed ridiculous. "Vampire." The call instantly caused all focus to direct itself at Abraham and curious eyes settled on him patiently. Pleased by the fast reaction, Abraham took a step to the planned room and opened the door. "There is a restroom in here, soap is available in the cabinets, as well as a towel. Wash quickly. If you go down this hallway and climb the stairs to your left, there are rooms upstairs. The third one on your right is my office. I will wait for you there. A servant has left clothing on the bed in this room. Dress in them and then come to me." His directions were simple and direct. He figured exposing the beast to staff was hazardous, so he had the clothing left in the room. This was a test in a way as well. How well could the vampire follow instructions? Originally, he had planned to have him and someone else make sure his prize didn't do anything but now he had enough certainty that the monster would do as he said. Something just told him he could trust the vampire. And it was concerning that he wasn't concerned, but it couldn't be helped. Abraham had captured the beast by following his mind and instinct. He would continue to do so until it did him wrong.

XxxXxxXxxXxxX

Dracula listened. Nodded once he understood his master's instructions and then watched his master walk to the end of the hall and vanish from view as he turned a corner. Realization settled in and then loneliness. His master left him in the hallway by himself. He whined and looked worriedly between the corner his master had disappeared behind and the open bedroom. He wished his master hadn't left. It was...irritating to know he was so needy for the human but...it was relieving to have space in a new area. He could do as he wished. No, no, he had orders. Wash, dress, find master. No longer as worried, Dracula stepped into the room and located the bathroom, after first finding the walk in closet. He quickly found the soap master had spoke about and began to fill the tub with cold water. He hated water. Most vampires did, but using it to clean himself was something he didn't mind. He liked feeling clean. While humans also washed, they prefered warm water, as their bodies were warm blooded. Because a vampire's body was cold, they prefer cold water.

Dracula removed his clothes as slipped into the tub, emerging himself as much as possible, resulting in the water being up to his nose. It felt nice, and for a minute, the vampire purred. His master was so nice. Allowing him to bathe and not hurting him. He even fed him! Wetting his hair and shampooing it took a while. It was long hair, to his waist and extremely matted. Chunks of black muck eased out of his hair and after washing and rinsing his hair several times, he had to drain and then refill the tub. For the second tub of water, he focused on his body, washing under his arms and under his nails, making sure to get everywhere with the soap. Once again, he drained and refilled the tub, using the last tub of water to rinse his body.

Stepping out of the water was...embarrassing. As graceful as Dracula was, and even with extreme vampiric reflexes, he had managed to reach for the towel and place his weight wrongly. It caused him to slip and he only reacted fast enough to catch himself on his hands. With a slight snort he stood and began drying his body. If master were there, he would have laughed at him.

Body dry, Dracula realized he had forgotten to look for the clothing Master had talked about, so he did that and dressed. The underwear was simple, white. A little big but comfortable. The pants, while not the standard he would usually pick, were also comfortable and the hems were a bit shorter than he needed. Those were a dark grey. No shoes but he was fine with that. He hated wearing shoes anyway. The shirt was way too big on him. On his thin figure the shirt went to the top of his knees and the sleeves were long enough to go over his usually too long arms. The shirt was white and he opted to rip and then roll the sleeves to his wrists and leave it untucked.

.Droplets of water dripped down his back from his hair. They were quickly seeping into the thin fabric. It annoyed the vampire and he moved it to the side, where he quickly plaited it after drying it to the best of his abilities. Using a scrap of fabric from when he earlier tore his shirt, to tie the plait off. He normally wouldn't braid his hair but even if it were deemed a socially feminine hair style, he liked it and most didn't think it took any of his manliness away. Now that he was dressed and had his hair no longer bothering him, it was time to find his master.

It wasn't hard. Master had a very distinct smell. One that the vampire could almost see, and it lead him directly to Abraham. The hard part was actually getting into the office.

Dracula stood staring at the door for a minute or two. Master hadn't told him if he should knock or not. He would always have his servants knock but he knew different people prefer different things. If Dracula were expected, would it be better for him to knock before entering his master's study or to simply walk in. A slight whine edged his lips and he went for knocking. It was better to slightly annoy someone rather than make them feel like you disrespected their space. His white knuckles tapped firmly on the dark wood, not at all showing how nervous the vampire was. He was very new to being around this human and he didn't know what would set his master off or not.

Either way, he needed his master. That was a fact.


End file.
